


Suffering Souls

by Emriel



Series: Fatal Magnetism [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Freeform, M/M, Multi, Paraphilia, Sadism, Unreliable Narrator, Voldemort Wins, dark humour, third person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 09:26:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18466135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emriel/pseuds/Emriel
Summary: Hermione should have listened to her friends who warned her to stay away from Harry Potter, the Dark Lord’s beloved pet.A story of how Hermione looks upon the sordid love affair between Harry Potter and the Dark Lord.





	Suffering Souls

**Author's Note:**

> Hi reader! This one-shot fic is an AU to the story [Fatal Magnetism](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17860403) but mostly written as an aftermath but not necessarily the real ending to the [original version](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18470572) of 56k something words. If you haven't read the original version, you can read the summary of the old fic below to get a bit of a background of the events prior to this. Or you can just skip all that but I don't know if the story will make much sense. I **warn** you that I wrote this for my own enjoyment and that this whole thing is mostly told in Hermione’s POV.
> 
> **Fatal Magnetism Short Summary (AND SPOILERS) - Highlight if you want to read**
> 
> Back in second year, Harry was betrayed by everyone in Hogwarts. They thought he was the Heir of Slytherin. With no one to turn to, he found solace with Tom Riddle’s Diary. Tom slowly made the boy trust him, and eventually, Harry made a wish to be with Tom inside the Diary forever— because that’s a lot better than having to face everyone else who hated his existence for something he was born with.  
>    
>  So Tom Riddle granted his wish. He then left Harry’s body in the Chamber of Secrets. The body was eventually found and it caused an uproar. Dumbledore says it’s Voldemort’s doing but no one believed him.  
>    
>  Meanwhile, the Diary horcrux merged with Voldemort and because of that, whatever insanity Voldemort had left, was tamed and infected by Tom’s residual affection for their errant horcrux. Voldemort became obsessed with Harry, who justified it as being obsessed with oneself.  
>    
>  Ginny Weasley was pronounced dead, despite not finding her body. Dumbledore gets sacked. Harry Potter’s home life is revealed to the public and there was an outcry for justice.  
>    
>  Harry Potter was still alive but with no soul, and his body became zealously guarded by the wizarding world and kept under the tightest of protections underneath Hogwarts.  
>    
>  But eventually, after Voldemort won, he retrieved the body to keep it inside his castle. All this time, he kept interacting with the Diary that held Harry’s consciousness. Eventually, he forced and seduced the child to swear an oath to serve him. Five years have already passed since Harry’s second year.  
>    
>  The rebels have gone into hiding including the Order of the Phoenix.  
>    
>  Once Voldemort deemed it safe, he woke Harry up, conducting a set of rituals that would further bind the boy to him, remove his mother’s protections, and break the prophecy that hung over their heads. Harry despised Voldemort at that point and vowed in his mind with the help of the horcrux trapped within him that he’d end Tom but it was obvious that he still held feelings for the Dark Lord, no matter how much he tried to deny it.  
>    
>  Hermione belongs to the Order of the Phoenix and like Severus Snape, she became a double agent.  
>    
>  She led the envious life. She was the model student in Hogwarts, one of the few muggleborns that the Dark Lord spared. Despite her lineage, she consequently got selected as the Head Girl of Hogwarts ever since her fifth year and managed to earn the respect of her peers by proving that blood isn’t a deterrent for power.  
>    
>  She proved herself worthy by becoming one of the very few students who were accepted in the Dark Lord’s chosen elite at the young age of fifteen. After graduating, she became a Death Eater.

It carried a certain prestige. A muggleborn joining the Dark Lord’s Inner Circle was unheard of until now.

_But it is a punishment. They allowed me to live so I can witness Harry’s torment, as if he hasn’t already suffered enough._

Hermione Granger closed her diary and locked it with the most dangerous spells she could ever think of.

“Time to work.”

* * *

The Death Eater mask was made of silver. Craftsmanship unremarkable because it looked like a replica of Bellatrix Black’s mask. They told her she could change it if she wanted to, but she’d rather not waste her time.

She was here to work and not play some convoluted plot the purebloods pulled out of their asses.

There were five of them all floating in the sky wearing black cloaks and masks. By now she knew who they were without needing to ask. Severus, Barty, Draco and Antonin.

The ritual circle beneath their feet was glowing blue, powered by their own magic.

The muggles would never be able to see them, but they could see them clear as day underneath the ritual platform.

They just needed a few more words, some wand waving, and they’d be done with it.

Beneath them was a city of what was once London, reduced to rubble but still very lively. The people refused to give up even in the face of doom. They helped one another to dig through the sludge that covered majority of the streets, looking for any signs of survivors who might have been buried from the last Death Eater attack.

They moved fast, or as fast as muggle legs could carry them.

They were ants, and crushing them at this point was merely overkill. The Dark Lord was not just content with taking over. He regaled a tale where foolish muggles believed in divine providence, and any uprising against them can be quashed if they routinely showed the consequence of angering their new delusional God.

“Here to witness your first arson, mudblood? How does it feel?”

Hermione was about to reply when another spoke, “Don’t call her that. The Dark Lord won’t be pleased,” Draco quipped beside her.

“You mean Potter won’t be pleased,” Barty offered, laughing as he twirled his wand.

Hermione was beyond frustrated, “If you have a problem with me Dolohov, I suggest you spit it out, now.”

Antonin Dolohov hissed in delight, “Feisty. I like that.”

At this, Hermione steadied her hand from punching the guy directly on the face, lest he fall to his death and Voldemort charged her with treason.

Oh the horror.

“Ahh… and the guest of honor arrives,” Snape hissed.

* * *

A white, bluish circular disk appeared directly beside them. A series of runes, activated and before long someone walked out of it. It was a teenager with a black blindfold, pale skin, leather shorts. He was barefoot with a collar and a leash.

And as close to them as they were, he could hear him begging. “Master… I’m sorry… I don’t want this...”

Harry. He looked so young, as if he’d just turned thirteen. Rumour has it, Harry’s body could hardly age, corrupted by the Dark Lord’s perversion. ‘Pedophile,’ Hermione accused in her head.

Voldemort soon came through the portal. Today he was dressed in white. A simple wide robe, with a billowing white cloak.

Beside her, Antonin gasped, “My Lord.” They bowed their heads down in deference. Hermione did the same.

Hermione could feel mad worship and the thrum of the dark mark was pleasant against their skin.

It was as if every part of their being was attuned to the madman.

“Rise.”

They rose in unison.

Tom Riddle would have looked like an angel, if only his eyes weren’t red. And those red eyes only had eyes for Harry who looked rather beaten up, with bruises appearing all over his arms, his neck, his torso.

Hermione did not want to know what they’ve been up to, but as close to them as they were, the smell wafted over, and it was evident they’ve rutted for hours.

“I won’t do it again… I won’t try to escape… I’ll do anything! I will… so… so don’t—”

“Silence.”

Harry was crying now, and they watched him, slowly trying to walk away but with just a pull, Voldemort had the boy stumbling into his arms. Kissing him.

And Harry resisted, but soon kissed back with almost equal fervour.

Hermione wanted to look away, but this was something she’d seen more than a hundred times. She was—God forbid—used to it.

“This is your punishment, Harry. There’s no shortage of innocent lives to kill whenever you misbehave.”

And with that, Voldemort began untying Harry’s blindfold.

Theatrics.

Harry gasped and held onto the Dark Lord reflexively when he found out they were several feet above ground. “Little one… don’t be scared. I won’t let you fall,” He said this almost in a murmur.

Voldemort finally acknowledged the Death Eaters. He looked at them expectantly, as he wrapped his arms around Harry’s smaller form.

“Burn them.”

* * *

Finally.

The moment they’ve all been waiting for.

This was quite unlike what they’ve heard during the briefing. All that crap about being a God and showing muggles who their betters were. It was all for his pet.

‘Divine Providence indeed,’ Hermione found herself muttering in her head.

She took out her beloved vine wood wand. Together with the four other Death Eaters, they formed a pentagram and released a five-fold spell that was stronger than fiendfyre unto unsuspecting muggles.

Beneath them, a hurricane of fire began to burn, and it was so hot, ash and smoke began to form immediately. It consumed the city.

From beneath them, they could hear screams, until there was none and the only sound was the roaring flame and of Harry sobbing.

* * *

The moment they landed inside the castle, Voldemort was angry. Again.

“When will you learn that defying me will only lead to pain?”

Harry was still trying not to cry, and bravely said, “I can take it.”

“Lies!”

Harry glared, green eyes turning into slits. “You hurt other people because you’re afraid to hurt me. This is what it’s all about isn’t it?”

Hermione almost wanted to slap her forehead. ‘Idiot.’

“Crucio!” Voldemort cast the spell with such ease and they all watched Harry go down to the floor, screaming and flailing like a fish out of water.

Voldemort’s empire was heavily reliant on fear. Five inner circle members were enough to give them a wide berth, but entering the castle with the Dark Lord and _Harry Potter_ made a very big difference.

Witches and wizards bowed down in deference. There were hundreds of them. Possibly thousands more once they learned the Dark Lord was back.

As if nothing was out of the ordinary of a boy being tortured in the middle of their merry gathering.

It took seven minutes until Voldemort brought down his wand.

Harry was trembling, sweaty, and looked so lost. Voldemort reached down to caress the boy’s hair.

And then, they were hissing heatedly in parseltongue. The longer Voldemort spoke, the more Harry looked down at the floor, and the quieter he grew until… well? Nothing.

He completely shut down, and Voldemort stopped hissing too.

It was too optimistic of her to wish Harry would win this fight.

After awhile, the boy began his feeble attempts at standing up.

Falling. Failing. Frustrated. Rinse repeat.

Voldemort sighed and pulled the boy up.

“Can you walk?”

Harry took one step and collapsed, if it were not for the arms that held his torso. He couldn’t look at anyone, ears red, saying, “No.”

“I’ll carry you.”

“No—”

“Do not. Test. My Patience.”

And sometimes, Hermione wished Harry knew when to pick his battles, because the dark mark was burning through her arm until finally that stopped.

Up went Harry into the Dark Lord’s arms.

* * *

Inside the Dark Lord’s throne room, the Inner Circle Death Eaters stood, their group have been summoned from all corners of the world. Forty of the best wizards and witches, not necessarily the Dark Lord’s most loyal, but perhaps the Dark Lord’s most useful.

It was another rushed meeting. Voldemort liked to do this at times, to surprise unsuspecting Inner Circle members… punishing those who did not arrive on time. Once, Nott overslept, and he’d spent the rest of the night sleeping under a nightmare curse.

It taught everyone a lesson that when the Dark Lord called, you answered. Even if you’re in the middle of something important or something so banal. Just like when Hermione finally found the time to find a partner, and—

So demanding, their Lord.

“My friends, you have done well…”

Hermione tuned it out. Voldemort’s pep talk were full of lies, and majority of them boosted egos of those who already had too much of it.

“And no one else could have done it as beautifully as our newest member, Hermione Granger. Hermione… will you accept this gift from me?”

She heard a gasp of surprise from somewhere. Murmurings.

Hermione stepped forward, up the steps of the dais where Voldemort sat on a throne. Voldemort presented a red box and opened it for her. Inside was an intricate golden red mask with slit eyes, utterly Gryffindor, “With pleasure, My Lord.”

When she took off the silver mask, Harry’s eyes were wide, and he was biting at his lip, his small hands curled into fists.

He mouthed the words, “Traitor.”

And then it clicked.

So this is why she was given _that_ mask.

Theatrics.

She completed taking off the mask to replace it with the new one. For a few seconds, thirteen year old Harry Potter once again, came face to face with her nineteen year old self.

Hermione tried not to let Harry’s antics bother her

Most of the Dark Lord’s Death Eaters wore golden, porcelain or silvery masks. Here she was, singled out with a red one. It was like the Dark Lord wanted to paint a target at her. The mask’s purpose was to provide anonymity in number, but with this, everyone would know it was _the_ Hermione Granger. The Mudblood Princess.

How could she proceed with her plan now? Just when she thought she was making progress with Harry, who was finally coming out of his shell…

From the looks of things, it would take awhile before she could even convince him to talk to her again.

Once again, Harry was hissing a series of parseltongue words, seeking comfort from Voldemort. Of all people.

‘What the fuck, Harry? I’ve sacrificed freedom for you, and this is what I get?’

But she had to remind herself that Harry’s been imprisoned for seven years, and seven years was enough to change people.

* * *

Seven years was enough to fuck them up.

Hermione watched how Death Eaters cooed at the child, especially Bellatrix who was within all rights, the worst mother figure Harry could ask for.

But Harry looked up to her with a smile.

“Let’s try that again, shall we? You’re coming back to Hogwarts soon and I want all your friends to know that you’re better than them.”

She summoned another bunny, and whispered, “Go on then.”

“Expulso,” came Harry’s voice.

The bunny exploded into bloody bits and Bellatrix screamed in delight, “Wonderful! You are a _natural_ at this…”

“Can I… um... clean myself, Bella?” Harry asked, wiping bloody glasses on his white robes.

“Ahhh, but you look lovely splattered in blood, Harry. And… let’s take away those hideous glasses. Our Lord fixed your eyesight… no need to hide behind them.”

She plucked the glasses and threw them in the courtyard.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.

“I liked those… Hmmn, what about we try something else… like a dark spell?”

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat.

Bellatrix gave Harry a fond smile.

“The Entrail-Expelling Curse?” Bellatrix offered.

“I couldn’t quite get it right… Master doesn’t think I can do it on my second try.”

This time, they brought a muggle child.

“Aww…. you think you can do it, Harry?”

“Of course.”

“So bloodthirsty.”

Hermione decided that, right then and there, when Harry began casting the spell, maybe there was no point at all. Maybe her mission was a failure at the start.

And Harry. Harry was looking at her, with nasty little smile that didn’t belong to his face as he tortured the child before him.

As if that wasn’t enough, when Bellatrix began kissing Harry’s forehead, Harry hugged back. He looked happy.

“No.” Hermione felt it come out of her mouth.

Someone tapped her shoulder, and she was surprised to see a shock of blonde hair, “Ah… D-Draco. I didn’t see you were there.”

“Care to have a drink? We could use some company.”

“What? Why…?”

Draco looked at the bloody courtyard where remains of animals and people were scattered about… and raised his brows, “Unless you want to keep watching. Be my guest.”

“Where?” Hermione was distressed, wanting nothing else but to just scoop Harry out of Bellatrix’s insane hands.

“Hog’s Head. Blaise and Cedric are waiting… You really don’t want to see what happens next.”

Right now, Harry was playing with human innards with his boot. And then, the Dark Mark thrummed as Voldemort appeared, morphing from the shadows to solid form so he could wrap his arms around Harry.

“You make me so… proud, my love.”

Voldemort looked positively exuberant at Harry’s progress.

Hermione wanted to wretch. Voldemort was over seventy years old.

“You’re right. I need a drink.”

* * *

After having three mugs of firewhisky, Hermione’s carefully composed facade fell apart.

“You know… when I first met him, I thought he was an imposter. Everyone thought he was dead. For years…I thought I’d have to live with the guilt that I let him down. I stared at his body wondering if he’d ever wake up.”

“Wait, Dumbledore let you see his body? Wasn’t Harry’s body underneath Hogwarts and all? I’ve heard all about it from Father. No one could have seen his body aside from Dumbledore.” Cedric asked in quiet marvel.

“Yeah.” Hermione grinned, looking at her reflection in the glass and thankful he had foresight to cast charms to keep people from overhearing the conversations.

“Dumbledore said that Ron and I were too affected by Harry’s disappearance back in second year. I mean… we were jerks to him. You saw how everyone accused him of being the Heir of Slytherin. Ginny was missing, and Ron hated how Harry wouldn’t do a thing… I… I was so stupid. And we both hated how we treated him that way. Professor Dumbledore said it wasn’t healthy to keep dwelling on it, so he let us say goodbye.”

“Gryffindors. Perks.” Draco grumbled and was already on his fourth glass.

“Draco. I thought I’d never get over it… but sometimes I wish he just died.”

“Careful there, you never know who’s listening.” Cedric warned her.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t have said that.” Hermione sighed.

Cedric gave her a small pat, and Draco mouthed something to Cedric that Hermione was too drunk to comprehend.

“When they brought me to face him for the first time. I thought it was a sick joke… and I couldn’t… I couldn’t do anything, but just stare at him. Then he hugged me, and said Hermione, it’s been awhile. And just like that… we were talking and I thought he was alright… but I—”

“Fucked up. We know.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Another glass!” Hermione hollered.

Cedric shook his head at the barmaid who came rushing back for more, “She’s had quite enough.”

“I want another damn fucking glass. Draco… tell this idiot that I can handle it.”

“Uhh. How many fingers am I waving right now?” Draco asked.

Hermione found herself mentally counting it and glared, “Four. And stop being an asshole. Ugh,”

Draco and Cedric shared a look. Blaise who kept quiet the entire time, smiled at Hermione sweetly, took the glass from the confused barmaid and carefully placed it in front of Hermione.

“Thank you, Blaise.”

“Anytime Princess.”

“Pfft.. Princess. Haven’t heard of that in years.” Hermione found her cheeks red from something else other than alcohol.

Hermione giggled. Actually giggled. Blaise smirked, “Who knew the winner of the Triwizarding Dueling Crown Tournament would be a Mudblood ‘Princess’. You slaughtered us all.” Blaise emphasized the word Princess with his fingers, quoting it in the air.

"This coming from someone who liked to kill his opponents. It's a good thing I _slaughtered_ you Blaise."

"And I've been your loyal follower, ever since, my princess."

"Cut the flirting, Hermione's already taken," Draco warned and continued, "But it certainly is amazing. You graduated top of the year. You took the crown. You became a Death Eater and now, you’re Voldemort’s only _Mudblood_ member of the Inner Circle. I say you should stop thinking about Potter, and just celebrate that instead. What's next , taking over the Dark Lord's Empire? You're making us look bad” Draco ended up complaining.

"Not my intention. I just like winning," Hermione honestly said, "and if I want to make a difference, this is the way to go."

"Right. You've already done so much. It’s better if you cut yourself some slack. Leave Harry alone,” Cedric offered while swirling his glass of wine.

“I can’t… I just want to help him," Hermione insisted.

Cedric put down his glass and sighed, “Harry doesn’t need your help. He might look like he needs it… but I’ve seen it. I’ve trained him personally. I know that this _innocent_ act of his. It’s all a ruse.”

Draco nodded eagerly, “Yes, _Princess,_ you have this all wrong. Potter doesn’t need saving.”

Hermione traced the rim of her mug, and wiped the froth away from top of her lips with a napkin, focussing entirely on Draco, against the yellow lights and dark mahogany wood.

Everything else was blanketed in grey as she zeroed on the words that came out of his mouth.

“He’s in love with the Dark Lord.”

“What!?” Hermione caught herself, almost spilling her drink.

“Just as obsessed even,” Draco added.

“Totally.” Blaise nodded sagely.

“How can I… W-what the… Am I the only one who’s missed this?... but he’s like a kid and, obviously he can’t have consented to this… to whatever weird relationship they have?” Hermione made a face at this.

Cedric looked a little uncomfortable and offered the word, “Consort?”

“What?” Hermione swerved her head around to look at Cedric who was seated at her left.

“You’re lying. Merlin.” Hermione gulped another mouthful of firewhisky and felt it burn a straight line down her throat and then started coughing. “There, there. Take it easy, Princess.” Blaise began patting her back. She wrestled it away and glared.

Blaise raised both of his hands doing a gesture of I didn’t do anything.

“Technically, Harry isn’t the consort to the Dark Lord. Yet. But he will be. They’re already together. My father told me their marriage is scheduled to happen next year even. Don’t you see how he brings Potter with him wherever he goes? He makes it look like Potter is just a pet, but that brat has power over him unlike no one else in the entire world. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes.” Draco said, as a matter of factly.

“He’s grooming him,” Cedric said, and he drank through his glass as well and motioned for another one.

“But this is Harry we’re talking about. He was crying when we burned London!?”

“That’s just a consequence of Potter being willful… but you should see how he acts when the Dark Lord isn’t around. He goes crazy. All lovesick. It’s almost nauseating. And he’s turned Potter into a masochist.”

“Fuck.” Hermione groaned in her head.

“You okay?”

“I mean. I just saw Bellatrix treating Harry as if she was her son and the Dark Lord making out with Harry. Of course I’m not okay!”

Draco went silent at this. Cedric too.

“At least they look nice together,” Blaise, joked.

“Blaise, if you crack another joke about this, I will forever condemn you as a pedophile.”

“Woah… woah… easy. I was just trying to lighten things up… We know. It’s a lot to take in but that’s just really how it is.” Blaise said and sighed, “It’s not like it’s the first of its kind to happen. Child marriages are pretty common in the Wizarding world, and you’re lucky that Harry only has his physical age to worry about. He’s technically eighteen now.”

Draco sighed, “Hermione, we’re just watching out for you. I mean, we’re not close, but we’re friends… and a friendly advice is… just don’t get involved with Potter. He’s already in _far_ too deep.”

Blaise started laughing at this. “In. _Far. too. Deep._ ”

“Let me rephrase that,” Draco said while he strangled and shook Blaise who was laughing at the unintentional innuendo. “He’s not the same Harry you used to know. Harry Potter is a monster… and he doesn’t need you.”

“I…” Hermione sighed.

“Meanwhile, I have to continue negotiating with vampires. Vlad wants to turn me in return for an alliance with the Dark Lord. I’m not sure how to politely refuse the offer, but if Our Lord decides I’m better off as a vampire… well... I hope he doesn't. I’ve managed to negotiate a ceasefire, and if I say no, this might prolong the efforts in recruiting them to our cause.”

Cedric looked a little troubled at this.

Blaise blinked a couple of times and stared at Cedric. “You, a vampire?”

Hermione chose this moment to give Cedric one somber look, “Eternal life for the price of drinking blood for all eternity? Just say No, Cedric.”

“It’s not my call.”

“Ah… man. That’s going to be _bloody_ wicked though.”

"Stop it Blaise." Hermione rolled her eyes, sighed asked Draco and Blaise, “What about you two, what have you been up to?”

“I’ve been assigned to the Middle East. I oversee the slave trade there. Nasty business, but my mother’s been quite helpful in that regard.”

"I don't want to know more." Hermione scrunched her nose up and she turned to Draco.

“Like you, Hermione, I haven’t been sent out of Britain, even though I volunteered many times… Our country is in shambles and despite how easy the Dark Lord and his ministers show we’re doing a good job to the public, the collapse of the wizarding currency still leaves us with a backlash of purebloods, struggling to get the most out of their money. We’ve relied on Gringgots all our lives, and now that they’ve been massacred. It hasn’t been easy.”

Draco grumbled, trying not to remember what has become of his life.

“So this is not the classic case of Daddy dearest pulling strings ensuring you don’t get killed by being cannon fodder.”

“No, Hermione! I told you… I mean… he might have pulled some strings, but this work I’ve been overseeing is crucial to our cause—”

Hermione nodded her head along. Still so defensive when it comes to his father, this man-child. When she found out how much Draco got ticked whenever it came to his father, she began to use it to her advantage.

“—and there’s nothing wrong with that. While you get to fight rebels, kill muggles, and destroy cities, I have to do the menial and tedious work in trying to fix it. I barely get any sleep!”

“Hear hear.” Blaise raised his glass.

The conversed, sharing bitter stories, hard won victories, and tried not to look altogether gloomy at the prospect of another tomorrow. Only Viktor was missing, but he was back at Durmstrang, recruiting children, indoctrinating them.

“I propose a toast, to Cedric for keeping his humanity, to Draco for preventing the Wizarding World’s financial collapse, to me and the slave trade, and to the Princess for joining the Inner Circle.”

Hermione half heartedly raised her firewhisky mug. The glasses clanged.

“Let’s meet up like this again sometime again in the future.”

They’ll get over this.

* * *

Photographs of her parents littered the wall. Moonlight pierced through tall glass windows.

A dead plant sat next to the window sill, and she had to shuffle through the trash on the floor to get to the bed.

The bed was strewn with clothing she’s worn for the past week. With a swipe of her wand, they all fell towards the pile of rubbish. Normally she wouldn't do that but the past weak was hard on her and all she wanted was her bed. So she dove for it.

She rolled around until she was curled up into a ball and clung to the pillow, trying to keep the nausea inside her stomach. She let the heaviness of the alcohol carry her deeper into the bed, as if she was falling inside of it even though she knew she was hardly moving.

And cried.

Once she collected herself, she touched her earring, and began reporting what she learned to the Order of the Phoenix.

“It doesn’t seem like Harry will be coming back to us any time soon. I’ve been observing him, and if we try to free him now, we will be met with resistance. It’s just like Severus predicted. We’re too late. Neville’s the only one we’ve got. Keep your distance.”

* * *

Just like how Voldemort couldn’t stay away from Harry, Hermione was bound by an old friendship which made her do stupid things for the sake of what she felt was right.

She requested a private meeting with Harry via owl, and Harry graciously accepted it.

They met at the castle gardens for tea of all things. Beside Harry were four Death Eaters, and two human servants who had their mouths sewn shut.

“Sit,” Harry gestured at the empty seat in front of him.

“Thanks.” Hermione sat down, and tried not to look at Harry’s guards.

“Hermione, what do you want to talk about?”

“I wanted to say sorry.”

“For what?”

“For not telling you the Dark Lord accepted me as a part of his inner circle… I was going to tell you but I thought you already knew.”

“Is that all, Hermione?”

Harry was looking her, but it was as if he was looking past her.

“I’m sorry about abandoning you.”

Harry blinked, and he looked confused.

“Harry. It was wrong of me… to choose Ron over you. But you had to understand… at that time, we were kids and he was stupid. Ginny was missing… and I know I should have done better… I should have watched over you. For all it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Harry frowned and smiled, “There’s nothing to apologize for, Hermione. if you haven’t abandoned me back then, I wouldn’t have met my master. I should be the one thanking you. It was because you abandoned me that I learned never to trust again. Master showed me ways to ensure I would never be betrayed again…”

Harry drank tea, and smiled politely.

“Do you really believe that? Are you at peace, where you are right now, Harry?”

“Hermione. Nothing will ever happen if we dwell in the past. Our Lord spared me and for that I am thankful…”

“I—”

Harry brought the porcelain cup down, a little harsher and looked at her with cold green eyes, “Many people in this castle wish me dead. You know the feeling, I’m sure. I’m only making the most of what I have. Just like how you climbed the ranks, to become part of his Inner Circle, I too plan to become invaluable to him, in some way.”

“Why?”

Warning bells were ringing in Hermione’s head, but despite the danger, she had to push because she was curious and there was no other avenue to reach Harry aside from talking to him out in the open like this.

“I love him.”

It was like a punch to the gut. Hermione took a harrowing breath and stood up.

“If there’s nothing else, I have to attend classes at Hogwarts.”

“Wait.”

Hermione caught Harry’s hands just when he motioned to leave. She was across the table. Four wands were pointed at her throat.

Harry’s hands were trembling.

That was enough proof to her.

That maybe Harry needed saving. He couldn’t very well say it in front of all the Death Eaters guarding him.

But Harry was trembling due to suppressed emotions. It was fear. It had to be fear.

And Hermione learned to trust her gut early on. She promised with all her might, that she would save Harry from Voldemort. Harry deserved better.

* * *

Harry deserved better than being a centrepiece to an orgy of Death Eaters.

Her best friend was was spread eagle on a slab of glowing white marble, as an imaginary ghostly form kept fucking him, as if it was a show.

And all throughout this, unintelligible words like, “It’s so hot… Fuck… Let me cum…” was coming out of his mouth.

All this while, Voldemort was at the opposite side of the room, entertaining his lieutenants. Kissing Bellatrix.

When lips touched hers, asking her if she wanted to partake in the festivities, she said, “No Antonin… I’ve told you already. I don’t want this.”

“Suit yourself. You’re missing out Princess.”

* * *

Hermione felt guilt eat at her when she witnessed punishment after punishment. She told herself that Harry was putting on a show, that his smiling covered up for the pain he felt inside.

When Harry led a group of Death Eaters together with Fenrir Greyback, Hermione tried to tell herself that no, it was _not_ Harry that ordered to have the muggle children get eaten, killed, and raped, in _that_ order.

Harry would never have the heart to do that. That was all Voldemort. The man was poison whispering suggestions to Harry’s ears, and Harry should have been able resist him.

But he was too vulnerable for the Dark Lord’s machinations.

She saw it, how easily Harry’s reason faded away. How he would close off and become jaded. Because Harry would never condone the atrocities the Dark Lord committed.

Hermione would not let herself believe it was her best friend.

Harry was not responsible for the death of Ron Weasley. He would never believe his words when he said, “I did it because he was a traitor.”

Because Harry was not the type to hold grudges. Harry would never have the heart to kill anyone, much less their friends.

Harry was not capable of torture. It was not him that ordered Remus Lupin to be buried alive with his wife with insects that slowly ate their bodies.

And it was not Harry that willingly fucked the Dark Lord above their graveyards, as they screamed for help.

When they set off for the Dark Lord’s twisted idea of “team building” it was not Harry who carried five decapitated heads, asking her “What’s your kill count? I have seven.”

And Hermione could only ever bring herself to kill two. Just to keep up the pretence. And he looked at her with pity then, as if there was something wrong with her, and not with him.

Harry was not a sadist. He would not ever enjoy the thought of bathing in blood.

It was not her best friend that liked to fill his baths with the remains of dead people, whom he killed. It was not Harry that brought these dead people back to life as Inferi.

It was not Harry that commanded the Dark Lord’s Dementors. The child was a demon. A monster.

Hermione told herself it was not Harry and the person before her was an imposter.

Because Harry died that day they failed to save him from Voldemort, Harry died…

“Legilimens.”

Green eyes. Harry Potter had green eyes. But the imposter’s eyes were swallowed by a dark unholy light.

* * *

She woke up in her bed, and immediately she reached out for the red earring.

It was gone.

The world was as it was.

But it was not the same.

Try as she might, every time she thought of mentioning Ron Weasley to anyone, she would get a headache. What’s more is that, no one remembered Ron.

No one remembered his brothers, or Neville Longbottom.

What was happening?

Everyone was avoiding her… and Draco wouldn’t look her in the eye. Something was wrong, but her thoughts were sluggish. She kept a portkey underneath her bed, the shape of a rose, the crown she wore when she earned the title Princess.

But it was missing.

“No… no… this can’t be happening…”

Hermione clutched the Dark Mark as it burned painfully on her arm.

* * *

When Hermione was summoned to the Dark Lord’s chambers, she wasn’t not expecting Harry to be hanging from the ceiling.

Lash marks on his back.

Crying.

“I’m… sorry Master. I did it… for you…please...”

“Not. A. Word. My pet. You’ve ruined my plans, years of work to infiltrate the Order. You will pay for this.”

Harry screamed when Tom lowered the chains, and he dropped to the floor. Tom lined himself behind the child and started fucking him.

The boy lost consciousness. “You sweet little thing. You will be my undoing.” Voldemort growled as he bit Harry’s neck.

Savagely until it broke skin.

As if Harry’s blood didn’t already coat the marble floor.

Bellatrix appeared behind Hermione then, guiding her to the couch, as Voldemort continued fucking the unconscious child.

“You must be confused,” Bellatrix whispered in her ear.

“W-why… am I here?” Hermione shakily asked. Bellatrix took out her wand and dragged the tip to Hermione’s cheek, downwards, until it landed above the tip of her right nipple. Slipping down.

And then back up again. Bellatrix Black was playing with her.

“Harry’s been a very bad boy. He’s being punished right now. He tried to get ahead of Our Lord, by turning you in… thought it’d be a good present for Our Lord’s birthday.”

Hermione knew she had to run away, but she couldn’t move her body. It was frozen in place.

“You’ve been a very bad girl… Hermione. And I think, I shall punish you too. Tell me, are you still a virgin? Many of my men have expressed the interest… to find out. They’ll take you against your will.”

Hermione couldn’t speak when Bellatrix cupped her crotch.

“After all, it’s not every day that lowly Death Eaters get to fuck the Princess. We’ll have you begging like a whore… We punish traitors very differently in the Empire. We can’t have people thinking we’ve gone soft… so…you will suffer.” Bellatrix bit the shell of her ear, lightly.

* * *

Hermione gasped, eyes wide open. She clutched at her ear and found the red stud. She immediately rushed towards the bathroom, and threw up.

‘They know… He knows… I’m sure of it.’

Hermione took out one calm breath, and called.

“This is Hermione, speaking. Ron… are you there.”

“Oh… Hermione. Hey. How’s it going?” It was a familiar voice. It was Ron. He was alive… and suddenly, she collapsed, with her head against the porcelain seat.

“Hey… are you crying? What’s wrong? Tell me what happened…”

Hermione tried to wipe her tears and calm herself, “I just had… the worst nightmare… ever. I think I’ve been compromised… but I’m not sure. It could just be a nightmare... but I can’t stay here. I…”

“What do you mean?”

“I just… I’m glad… you’re safe but just to be sure, let me ask you a question. What was the first thing we saw when we went down through the door underneath Fluffy back in first year?”

“Uhh… God Hermione, you know I’m bad with this. It’s a vine of sorts.”

“What vine, Ron?”

Hermione was hopeful. She could almost imagine Ron scratching his head. “The… devil’s… something. Oh! Oh.. the Devil’s Snare.”

“And what animal did I turn into when we tried to drink a potion that would allow us to sneak into the Slytherin Common room?”

“A cat. Are we done yet?”

“Alright… I just had to—I thought you were dead.” Hermione took out the earring and laid it at her feet, activating the charm that would let her see through the other side.

Ron’s face appeared ghost like, and he looked confused, and worried but he was there, smiling at her, together with Remus, and Neville who waved back at her.

“Now, will you tell me what’s wrong, Mione?”

Hermione gathered herself, “I’d rather tell you myself. I’m coming over.”

* * *

Harry smiled at the vision of Hermione activating her emergency portkey. The scrying mirror hung beside their bed, and Harry stretched lazily as the poison addled Hermione willingly entered the Order's base and began regaling the details of her “dream.”

Voldemort looked awfully pleased.

“Harry, you’ve done well... How did you do it?”

Voldemort was above him. Inside him. Slowly inching in, at an almost torturous pace.

“She was so careful around everyone else but with me, she isn’t. The tea. It was laced with hallucinogens. Then, it was a matter of guiding her thoughts, and dreams. Letting her see my memories… making her think she was there. I had to make her panic…”

Harry raised his legs and wrapped it around the dark lord’s naked torso. “And?”

“I… god… locked her up in the dungeons. Couple of Death Eaters had some fun with her. She probably doesn’t remember anything by now… what part of it is real, and what isn’t… And then, I realized she kept touching her earring… and that’s when I— fuck— got the idea… Tom. Faster. Please.”

“You little slut, but I suppose I should reward you.”

Harry smiled, reaching out for the Dark Lord and pushing backwards.

“You’ll let me keep her then.”

“I thought you wanted her dead,” Voldemort kissed Harry’s lips. “I thought you wanted to see her suffer.”

Harry looked a little lost at the suggestion, “but Tom, the dead don’t suffer.”

Tom grinned savagely at this, plowing into that tight hole. Sinking his teeth against the juncture of Harry’s neck. Never mind that it was already littered with bite marks.

“Mine.”

“Yours.”

* * *

She woke up, wearing the same bloody pyjamas she wore when the Death Eaters stormed their headquarters.

She had her wand about her, firing spell after spell, as she ran and shouted for everyone to "Leave!” Knowing that it was all her fault. She’d been careless. She managed to hold them off despite the searing pain on her dark mark, and the headache that assaulted her head.

The Black Manor was in ruins when the attacks stopped. Priceless artifacts strewn around, walls torn apart. Windows shattered.

And her very bruised head dragged across the floor by the Dark Lord himself.

“I should kill you now, but Harry doesn’t want you dead. I’ll just have to punish you a little...”

And Voldemort broke the bones of her feet, and knees, and it took all that she could Not. To. Cry. But she screamed as he killed Ron in front of her.

And her unborn child.

A few escaped, including Neville, thank God.They took the rest as prisoners.

And now she was here, in Harry Potter's room, a pair of green eyes staring back at her. Harry wore white pyjamas. His hair was fluffed around his face, and from the moment the boy woke up, he was bugging her.

It took awhile before she could talk, but Harry kept coaxing her to talk. Relentless, as if he had nothing better to do.

They were back inside the Dark Lord's castle. Harry's chambers were large and he filled it with random trinkets like a racing broom, a fluttering snitch, a portrait of Tom Riddle, a large mirror that hung in the ceiling, books, toys...

And it smelled faintly of sex.

“So you mean to say that you have an atrophied soul. And because of that… you can’t feel emotions. I get it.” Hermione finally caved in.

“Right, Hermione.You’re a genius!” Harry clapped, and summoned another pillow and his green blanket so he could lie down on the floor next to her cage.

It was a round cage with gold and silver bars. Hermione tried to get out, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to. She was thankful she was lying on carpet, and they gave her pillow. There was a collar on her neck that was rather uncomfortable but she could almost pretend she was almost doing a sleepover with Harry.

Hermione took her own pillow and lied down so he she could listen to Harry talk some more. She might as well get comfortable.

“When Tom cut up my soul, I lost a part of myself…” Harry made a gesture with his hands, as if wrenching out a figurative heart and watching it flutter away.

Despite whatever happened, Hermione almost smiled. “You mean, you’ve turned into a psychopath?” It was hard to stay mad at Harry.

“No... no... Psychopaths don’t think… you know more about them than I do, you’ve studied muggle psychology during your spare time. I’ve read about it… I don’t think I’m a psychopath, but Tom is probably one.”

Hermione knew it. It was true.

Psychopath or not, it was abhorrent that they were the leaders of the Wizarding community.

She should have stayed away just like Draco told her to.

“You can join us. I mean… it’ll make you feel better when you can’t feel anything about what happened in the past.” Harry replied cheerfully. “Or I can erase your memories again?”

“No, Harry. You can’t tear my soul in two just for fun and you shouldn't erase my memories. Can you be honest for once? Is this what you really want?” Hermione pulled her hair in frustration.

“I don’t know… At first… when Tom woke me up, I wanted to kill him. I hated him… and sometimes I still entertain the idea of killing him… but lately, it’s just easier to go with the flow. Tom is a lot stronger than me. Fighting back hurts.”

Harry drew little circles on the floor, as if recalling things. He looked so small, wearing oversized pyjamas and curling around himself like that.

“I knew if I ever wanted to fight him, it was going to be a long drawn out game… But I thought I could do it. I was prepared to… Until I couldn’t anymore because he made it so.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, despite knowing she might not like the answer.

“He tortured me. Made me do some weird rituals which tied me to him… and even now we can talk in each other’s heads freely because of it. Tom’s such a voyeur. And then, I fell in love with him… or maybe, I was already in love with him, even back in second year. I mean…Tom’s just so nice to me. So nice.”

Harry sighed helplessly… “It’s hard to explain.”

“Can you hear yourself? How can you love a man that hurt you for so long?”

Hermione banged her fists against the cage and tried to reach out for Harry.

“You won’t understand it, Hermione. I need him. He told me he’d never leave me and we’ll be together for all eternity.”

At that moment, the door to Harry’s chambers opened, and Nagini came in together with servants bringing in breakfast. Harry wrestled with Nagini until she was tangled all around him. Harry looked like he was happy.

The servants offered glass of juice which Harry politely thanked them for. “Can you give her some water too? Thanks...”

Hermione stared at the offending piece of glass inside her cage… but despite knowing better, she drank, thirsty.

“I’m addicted. The whole world could burn for all I care, but ever since I gave in... to Tom… He made me feel like I was the most important thing in the world to him. Like… if I wanted something, and he could give it to me, he’d give it… and in turn, I’d do anything for him. He loves me too, you know? In his own way?”

Hermione had a hard time wrapping her head around those words. Voldemort and love.

“What about the time when you were crying… I’ve heard you tried to escape.”

“Ah, that?”

Harry looked a little uncomfortable before closing his eyes and confessing, “Some part of me still wants to runaway. Sometimes I give into impulse because… Tom can be really scary sometimes and I feel so scared. He’s... _not_ a gentle lover. Sometimes I feel like he’ll kill me with how rough he gets… and there are things that even I… am not comfortable of doing… like cannibalism for example. Tom has this sick fascination of eating carefully prepared human flesh, from time to time… and I _don’t_ like that.”

Harry looked bothered as he wrapped his arms around himself and Hermione saw a trace of her Harry there. “I’m not comfortable with killing innocent children too. We argued about it… I mean, not all muggles are bad. There are despicable ones… and there are innocent ones.”

“But in the memory you gave me, you killed—”

“I like the hunt, Hermione! I can get carried away too. Especially after using dark magic and— I just... can’t help it nowadays. And if Tom orders me to do something, I take more pleasure in fulfilling it, than listening to my own thoughts… because if I did, I’d never be able to live with myself. You see… it’s the only way I could survive.”

“Merlin… Harry. This is so fucked up.”

Harry nodded a little.

Hermione turned away from him then, wondering what was going to happen to her now.

“What do you plan to do with me, then?” Hermione asked, her voice a little resigned.

Harry tilted his head towards her, and began petting Nagini, hissing at her until she laid still, dormant around him. “I’ve always wanted more friends but Tom doesn’t let me have any. But you’re different. You never gave up on me and believe it or not, Hermione, that makes me happy. Another part of me just wants to see you suffer. I still blame you and everyone else for abandoning me. When Tom woke me up, I was left with no choice… and things could have been different if you were there for me.”

Harry rolled on his stomach and stood up, reaching for the tray of breakfast food.

“He keeps on telling me I’m very needy… and as much as he likes to bring me around, there are dangerous places where he’d rather go alone where I can’t follow, so for a long time now, I’ve been begging him for a companion. And you’re that companion. You can be my friend?”

Hermione wasn't sure what to feel about this request. All this time that she was talking to Harry, Harry never considered her a friend... and was only offering that now..

"I kept you alive for a reason. Don’t worry. You’re useful to us, alive. You’ll serve the Dark Lord well. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

Harry licked his fingers then.

“But I have to warn you, I’ve tried making friends before but Tom is a jealous bastard. He’s killed them all.”

“And… what are friends to you Harry?”

Because to psychopaths love was usually sex. And if friends were enough to have the Dark Lord fall into jealous rage…

"Harry?"

Harry wasn’t looking at her because before the door even opened, Harry was running.

At the sight of the Dark Lord, Harry was smiling and he wrapped his arms around Tom, looking for all the world like a teenager in love. “I missed you Tom… what took you so long? Do you have something for me?”

Tom glanced at their little setup, and Hermione had to look away when Voldemort dragged the boy to the bed.

“I just gave you a present, and now you’re asking for more?”

Harry laughed and straddled the Dark Lord.

“I have a feeling you’ll kill her… so tonight, I want to make her like us.”

“What do you mean, Harry?”

“Oh… like, a horcrux. So she won’t die.”

“That could pose problems. You haven’t thought this through, my love. There can be no one else between us. You know this.”

“I know…”

“So you know why I have to kill her…”

“There you go again… I promise, it won’t be like the last time.”

“When you coaxed Collin into your bed, you said the same thing. This is not up for discussion. A companion. Nothing more than that. You will not touch her, and she will not touch you. _If_ I find out, that she’s had a taste of your pretty little flesh, I will make you eat her whole…”

“But you and Bella—”

“What I do with my followers is none of your concern. You have not earned the right to question my actions.”

Harry sounded upset, “Fine. But… you love me more?”

“Of course, Harry,” Tom said tenderly

Tom kissed the boy and ground his body upwards. “Ahhhh.” Harry moaned, and started rubbing, and collapsing against Voldemort. Peppering his neck with kisses.

The Dark Lord asked “And what about you, my sweet little pet. Do you love me too?”

“With all my heart, Tom.”

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wanted to write about Hare’s Psychopathy checklist but .-. I couldn’t find a good way to introduce it. I don’t think Voldemort deserves to be called a Psychopath is all. If you do some research about it... he just doesn’t meet the criteria. I scored him 28.5 out of 40 points but somehow the focus of the plot got taken away and evolved into an AU of Hermione because I enjoyed writing about her too much >:
> 
> I’d love to know what you think if you enjoyed reading this. I kinda feel bad for Harry and Tom in this... because they “love” each other... just not in the way we know love. But that's all Hermione's POV so she could be interpretting things in her own way. Her bias of Tom and Harry's relationship clouds the way the real story unfolds anyway so.
> 
> Trivia. Suffering Souls or Sick Mind is the literal translation of the word Psychopath, coined from the Greek words Psykhe and Pathos.


End file.
